


started out slow

by samalamb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, First Time, M/M, Porn With Plot, just an old thing i fixed up, not as angsty as its summary makes it sound, omega!dean, though it's not too explicit really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 06:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16034777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samalamb/pseuds/samalamb
Summary: But more than punching shit, Sam wanted to laugh at his own misery.





	started out slow

**Author's Note:**

> the tone shifts from serious to humorous and im none too partial to fix it buuuut, i did enjoy finally finishing this poor draft thats been drowning for the better part of near two years now in my google drive

It all started out so soft - quiet.   Painfully innocuous, really.

-

Sam doesn’t remember much from his formative years aside from  _ Dean. _

His perfect, caring, crude older brother who raised and tended and loved him.  He was his mother, father, brother, best friend and guardian - Dean was everything Sam knew.    


Dean’s eyes and words and scent - car oil and guns and underlying the undeniably sweeter, softer scent of Dean’s omega - all of which sang to Sam.    


He was all Sam cared for, everything Sam thought of.  And Sam hadn’t a clue that this was out of norm or commonly referred to as - a fucked psyche.

-

They had just finished up a hunt in Tennessee, and Dean had somehow managed to withhold all terrible puns on the name.

That was, until Dean was thrown to the ground by a pissed off vampire and Sam had done quite the number on the monster for hurting his brother.  And really, Dean wasn’t all that hurt, he’s been through worse - but Sam’s alpha raged and everything went a little red.

It wasn’t until the vampire was a bloodied mush beneath him, properly decapitated, and he was helping Dean stand that his brother decided humour was up for grabs.

Sam was wiping the blood off, and Dean was eyeing him up and down with a faux lascivious glint that made Sam’s cheeks unfortunately heat.

“What?”  Sam snapped out, shuffling, and Dean chuckled, fanning his face for dramatic effect.

“Hafta’ ask after that fabulous display of alpha machismo - you from Tennessee -”

Sam cut him off, “Dean, if you finish that sentence -”

Two could play the cut off game, as Dean cheerfully kept on, “Because you’re the only  _ Ten _ - _ I-See _ .”  To make matters worse, Dean had draped himself on Sam’s relatively less blood soaked arm, fluttering his lashes for effect.    


Sam stared down only a second, heart lodged in his throat like it always did when Dean did stupid jokes like this on him and even though Sam  _ knew _ that’s all it was - an awful pun and joke, it touched too close to home so he swallowed whatever he could and stormed off.    


Dean was shoved off him in the process, and his brother went oddly quiet.    


Sam felt Dean’s eyes boring into his back like miasmic heat before Dean muttered something or the other under his breath and burst into laughter that only sounded slightly off.

Things were only made worse when Sam’s blush deepened at the sound of his brother’s laugh.

-

_ With need and yearning tugging at him from every which way, shameful dreams which drove Sam unable to look Dean in the eyes the next day weren’t far off - and he was only twelve, these feelings were too new, too overwhelming, for Sam to even come close to understanding the bare skin of their depth.    
_

_ It wasn’t until years later, that Sam came to the stark realization that wanting of your brother  _ that  _ wasn’t exactly key for society.  _

-

_ Hot - very hot.  Couldn’t really catch his breath, wouldn’t want to either.  Not when the sight of a lithe body twisting beneath him was so present. _

_ “Sam?” _ _ The body called out, and he flinched at the sound of his name.  That voice was familiar - which it shouldn’t, not in this context - because that voice, it was - _

_ “Dean?” _

_ The figure smiled. _

_ He woke up. _

“Earth to Sammy - you in there?”  Dean called out from the void, and Sam blinked slowly, the ever familiar surroundings of the Impala’s backseat seat coming to.

“Hm?”  Sam muttered, feeling too hot and Dean just smirked at him from where he sat.  They were speeding down a deserted desert highway - the usual for them, Dad quiet and focused from where he was in the front.

“Looks like  _ someone _ had a fun dream.”  Dean chided, and Sam didn’t get it.  He felt somewhat uncomfortable fidgeting where he sat and it wasn’t until Dean gestured to his pants that Sam understood.

He jumped, squawked indignantly because he was - he was  _ hard _ , and Dean was laughing at him and he didn’t get it and then bits and pieces of his dream came back and he covered himself hastily, blushing a vibrant shade of red.

There was Dean, and it was hot and everything was fast and the  _ boom boom booming _ of his heart thundering in his ears and he felt dread settle like lead in his gut.  He had to shut up his brother before Dean found out because it was  _ Dean _ and Dean knew everything.

“Sh-shut up!”  Sam snapped, and Dean kept laughing, leaning over the leather wall of seat to poke at Dad’s shoulder which was a big  _ no _ .

“Dean!”

“Hey, hey, Dad, Lil Sammy’s all grown up now!”  Dean sing songed, and Sam pulled at his brother’s arm with desperation, trying to dislodge him from his current task - which was, embarrassing the shit out Sam.

“He ain’t grown until he presents.”  Dad said, gruffly, not even side glancing them and Dean chuckled.

“Yeah, whatever, but Sammy’s had himself a fun  _ dream _ , Dad.”  Dean said, and Sam felt like curling up and hiding.

“No I didn’t!”  Sam snapped, and Dean laughed.

“Did to!”  Dean retorted, before Dad stepped in.

“They’re natural, Sam, just means you’re a growing boy.”  And that was it, Dean huffing his disapproval and slumping back into his seat.

“You guys are no fun.”  Dean grumbled and Sam crushed his knees closer to his chest.

“You’re no fun.”  Sam retorted, brusque, and Dean quirked him a brow.

“Says you - I’m loads of fun.  You just have a stick shoved up your -”

“Dean.”  Dad warned. 

Dean sheepishly grinned. 

Sam beamed his approval.

“Aw, I’m just messing with you, Sammy.”  Dean said, slinging an arm around Sam’s shoulder and dragging him close, ruffling his hair.  “Big bro’s proud that you actually have a  _ drive _ in there somewhere.”  Dean said, and there was pride in the warm tone that made Sam squirm.

“It’s Sam.”  Sam said, muffled in Dean’s arm and Dean chuckled.

“Whatever, Sammy.”

-

_ Presenting alpha had been both the best and worst time for him.  _

_ He was alpha, his brother omega - and it was like all his fantasies in one go.  But then presenting alpha meant hiding his undue want for Dean was all the harder.    
_

_ He hid himself away, then, and Dean shrugged it off as Sam deciding he was too old to be dressing in the same room or some other teenage bullshit.    
_

_ He’d never know how much of a freak his little brother was. _

-

Sam could swear at times Dean watched him.  It wasn’t obvious - Dean was a surruptious fuck when he wanted to be.

But sometimes - Sam would feel… something.  Like an itch - just at the back of his skull, the one that made your fingers prod gently at your neck and head, trying to alleviate what it couldn’t quite discern.

It be at random times, during their research sessions - it’d be late, and Dean would have retired early, and Sam would be absorbed in his laptop, reading about this or that - and then.

The feeling would be there.  And his shoulders would burn a little, and he’d look around the room, accustomed to knowing gut feelings were to be trusted, but his eyes would sweep an empty area.  His acute alpha senses picking up nothing over the stale scent of the motel room and Dean’s underlying sweet aroma.

He’d scratch at his nose, and Dean’s eyes would be closed.

But Sam could’ve sworn he saw them glint white through his periphery.

There were other times, of course - during a hunt where Sam was almost killed, and Sam got that time.  He knew what it was like to stare at his brother if he almost lost him, knowing he was so close to never being able to.

But the stare wasn’t always innocuous - or amazed, or…  _ whatever _ he wanted to label it.

It was something else.

Sam didn’t know what to make of it.

-

_ Then Sam turned seventeen, and he ‘accidentally’ - and by accidentally he meant he hid by that door for what felt like hours before he peeked in on Dean with some female beta, some nameless face.    
_

_ And Sam knew then how far gone he was when the sight of her riding his older brother caused unseeable rage to boil from places in his mind he himself rarely ever trod.    
_

_ He wanted to pull her off, hell, he wanted to go so far as to cut that pretty pretty flesh of hers, rip into her soul for being so brass as to touch what obviously belonged to him.    
_

_ Dean was  _ his _. _

_ Under the assault of these emotions, of this unknown rage, he ran, he ran so far he blinked and he was in California.  In college and when he turned to his right he found a pretty omega girl with green eyes and blonde hair, freckled skin, hanging off his arm and shooting him a cocky grin that was eerie with how familiar it was. _

_ California had been everything and nothing, he wandered the tests and semesters as if a dream, had skimmed through engagement rings with half awareness.  He didn’t know what he was doing, or what he even wanted from all of this - normalcy?  _

_ And that made him laugh one night, lying next to a confused Jess as Sam laughed and laughed until tears struck his eyes.  Because that? Normalcy? That was lost when he first looked at Dean and wondered what his skin tasted like. _

_ Sam wasn’t meant for things like  _ normal _.  He was a freak - a  _ monster.

-

“Something eating you, Sammy?”  Dean’s voice asked, clear and sharp and just this side of jabbing at Sam’s already fractured mental frame.

“It’s Sam.”  The response was all autopilot, something familiar and simple and known.  It soothed Sam, at least a little bit, despite Dean’s too green eyes glaring into his with annoyance.

His brother looked genuinely worried for him.  Which - great, because  _ Dean _ , despite being omega and naturally inclined to be more caring, was jack terrible at actually  _ showing _ when he was worried, so if it came to a head where Dean himself had to cock a look.  Well, then Sam was more in his head then he thought.

“Look, Samsquatch -” Dean began, but Sam cut right through with an alpha tinged voice that Sam knew well enough Dean hated with a passion.

“ _ I’m fine _ .”  Sam bit out, hint of teeth peeking through curled lips.

Dean pouted his lips.  Sam tried not to notice.

“You do realize that whole ‘alpha voice look at me I’m so manly’ thing only suggests I shut up for a while?  I’m still  _ thinking _ my question.”  Dean said, later, when they were leaving the diner and Dean had begrudgingly finished his burger and fries in silence.

Sam didn’t say anything, opened the passenger's door and readied himself for the fun contortions required to fit his too large body inside.    


“Unfair super power you have going on there.”  Dean continued with to match Sam’s silence. “Wish I could growl something and you’d just shut up.”

“You know damn well what you can do to make me shut up.”  Sam, unfortunately, growled out, and Dean flashed him a look that reeked less than impressed by that one.

“Oh, you mean my omega tears?  Yes, because I prefer spontaneously crying to sounding like a badass.”  Dean deadpanned, and Sam felt kind of like an asshole that all he pulled from that was Dean thought he sounded cool.

Still, despite the annoyed irritation in Dean’s eyes there was still  _ worry _ there and Sam raked a hand through his hair and let out a heavy sigh.  He plopped down into the passengers, and only when Dean had his own door shut and Baby into drive did he speak up.

“Look, I’m just - tired.”  Sam admitted, and Dean side glanced him.

“From?”  Dean pressed, and Sam figured now the annoyance Dean always had when Sam forced him to talk about his feelings and other bullshit, wasn’t quite so unwarranted.  As it stood now it made his alpha surface, if just barely, and his breathing heavy and slow to keep the anger at bay.

“Everything.”  Sam said in leeway of answering.  But the answer held some truth, considering it had not been even eight months since Jessica had been killed by a house fire most unpleasant.  Sam didn’t know what to do, just sobbed like a fucking idiot and nodded like a scared child when Dean told him to come hunting with him again.

Sam conveniently forgot, then, that once the pain from Jessica faded away the always-there-not-quite-gone yearning he had for Dean would rear it’s ugly little head again.

“Yeah, I’m tired too, Sam.”  Dean said softly as he turned onto yet another dirt road leading to somewhere and Sam just shrugged his shoulders.  They could both be tired, wouldn’t change much for Sam - but he would put in an effort to be less in his head if it would soothe Dean.    


Because Dean’s happiness changed a whole lot for Sam.

-

A month past, two cases and a whole lot of nothing but the same odd air shared between Sam and his brother and Sam felt a little like screaming by then.

Sam was still the quiet, fucked too far left in the head Sam he’s been since college and Jess’ untimely demise.  And Dean was still the same too close yet still so far off Dean he’s been for about the entire surmise of Sam’s life.

He needed to run, to hunt, to kill or breed or do something and by the time Sam woke to find himself humping the bed with a snickering Dean not far off, so reachable and  _ fuckable _ that Sam realized he had a rut coming.  Apparently his alpha had enough of not dominating  _ something _ for nine months that it readily decided Sam needed to be kick started into action.    


Sam had a heavy disagreement with the notion, biting into his own palm when he stumbled off to the bathroom and shaking with the need to pin down the sweet smelling, definitely not available to him because  _ brother _ omega, that was finding his predicament all too amusing.

It wasn’t funny, to Sam, but then, when Sam took a near freezing shower to chill the heat simmering through him, he figured that - to a third party, his situation might be considered at least chuckle worthy.  Dancing around incestuous feelings for your too pretty to be plausible omega brother, well - Sam grit his teeth.

Another wave of heat and he punched the wall, knuckles cracking and blood splitting from the cut.  It fell orange in the spray of the shower, and Sam hissed at the pain cracking up his arm. It did little to distract him, but it did make him feel, if not wholly, at least a little better.

-

_ “So you’re really leaving?” _

_ “Yeah.” _

_ “Oh.” _

_ Sam shuffled. _

_ Dean sniffed. _

_ “Good luck.” _

_ Sam would be lying if he said the words didn’t break him. _

-

“Dude, you broke the tiles.”  Dean called out when Sam was sitting on his bed, resisting the urge to rock back and forth and pretending he  _ didn’t _ want to fuck the next living thing’s brains out.  Because said next living thing was the brother he’s been panting after for an uncomfortable amount of years now.

Dean’s voice was amused, almost proud really, and Sam examined the swelled three knuckles of his left fist, split and bloodied.

“Cool.”  Sam quipped, head perking up when he heard the soft footsteps of Dean walking out holding some alcohol and bandages.  “I don’t need-” Sam started, but Dean cut him off with a wagging finger.

“Nuh-uh, you got your instincts, I got mine.”  Dean said, kneeling down and grabbing at Sam’s wrist to inspect the hurt hand.  Sam’s wrist burned at the contact, hunger echoing deep in his gut and he resisted the need to flinch away, stilling himself to a tense hold.

Dean raised his eyebrows in appreciation at how deep the splits were, “Look, Sammy’s an alpha after all.  He punched a wall right into submission and nearly broke his hand doing it.” Dean said, voice mirthful as he smirked up into Sam’s avoiding eyes.  And Sam might’ve rose to the bait if he wasn’t at the moment nearing a rut and Dean wasn’t currently the only thing closest to him

Dean huffed at his silence, muttering something or the other under his breath and Sam felt moderately bad about that.  He stared at his brother’s fingers, breathing deep at the gentle touches Dean applied to the wound and hissing at the sting of alcohol cleansing it of germs.

As Dean wrapped bandages around his bruised knuckles, Sam let his eyes trace the contours of Dean’s face.  To the thick, long lashes, followed by freckles Sam could spend days counting, down to the plump, rounded lips that have played more than a few times in Sam’s fantasies.    


The more Sam stared, the more he wanted, and when Dean leaned back to eye his handiwork he was stopped short by Sam’s large hand - the one not being held up for inspection - clamping down around his arm and keeping him effectively pinned in place.

“Sam?”  Dean asked, confusion as he looked up at Sam through thick lashes and Sam wanted to snap at Dean to not do that.  Dean was already tempting enough just  _ existing _ near Sam, and here, kneeling down in what one could say was a demure posture, eyes wide as they stared up at Sam - some things were too much for a guy to handle.    


Sam leaned down, just a shy inch, nose flaring with the scent of Dean heavy in the air and Dean’s eyes coloured a whole new level of confused.

“Sam, you, uh, feeling alright?”  Dean asked, again, and at the subtle tugging of Dean’s arm attempting to escape his hold, Sam came to himself.

Sam blinked, wide eyed and looking at the clenching of his fingers on Dean’s arm, the perplexed look in Dean’s eyes, and he swallowed roughly.  His blood was rushing, through his ears and down on south and he was hungry and wanted to do a whole lot more than just touch Dean’s arm.

“I need to go.”  Sam said, finality in his tone and he staggered upwards, away from Dean and threw on the first shirt he could find.  Desperate to leave the small room.

“Wait - what?”  Dean said, standing up and positioning himself in front of the door, one hand palm out as if he was trying to quell whatever panic was rising in Sam.

“I need to go.”  Sam repeated, as if that would get the message across better and he marched towards the door, dazed and ready to go anywhere but here.  Dean didn’t move out of his way, and Sam stood not much distance away from him, glaring down at Dean and ignoring the passing thoughts on how easy it’d be to shove Dean out of the way, or, better yet - pin Dean to the fragile wooden door.    


Dean knew self defense better than anyone, hell, was better at it than Sam, but Sam knew that Dean’s skills could only go so far against Sam’s brute strength.

“Care to explain?”  Dean asked, irate and a defiant stance in his crossed arms.

“There’s no need to.”  Sam bit out, alpha lining the tone.  Dean flinched at it, an obvious war raging in his eyes to comply or keep going at it.  Dean, being Dean, went with option B.

“You know, the whole alpha thing gets old real fast.”  Dean said, and before Sam had a chance to rebuttal Dean kept on.  “And I know you, Sam, you don’t like showing off your status.” And that part was true, Sam found the whole thing rather petty and preferred using his own hard earned skills to get what he wanted instead of something he was just lucky to be born with.

“Look, you saw me this morning.”  Sam said, a small flush lining his cheeks at the memory, Dean just chuckled at the recall.  “I’m nearing a rut - and, well, I’d rather  _ not _ be here when I really get hit by it.”  Sam said, hand waving about to try and get the point across and Dean just stared at him.

“So your alpha’s demanding you get laid?”  Dean asked.

“It’s a  _ rut _ , Dean, it’s a little fucking more than just getting  _ laid _ .”  Sam hissed out and Dean just quirked a brow.

“Your point?”

“My point, is I don’t think it’s such a bright idea to have you being the only one near me at the time.”  Sam returned with. Dean’s eyes widened at his words, a light flush dusting his cheeks when the implications hit and Sam grit his teeth when another wave of want shot through him at the blush.

“Oh, well.”  Dean muttered, scratching at the back his head.  “We’re siblings so it shouldn’t really, you know, affect either of us too much.”  Dean finally said, and the genuine confusion as to why Sam would think otherwise, clear on his face, made Sam want to punch another wall.

But more than punching shit, Sam wanted to laugh at his own misery.  While true most siblings weren’t often affected by the heats or ruts of brothers or sisters, Sam felt like he was just one of those special cases.  Wired too far left.

“I’d rather not find out.”  Sam said. Unlike heats, which were timely things that happened once a month, an alpha’s rut happened only ever once in awhile.  Sam’s first had been three years after he presented alpha, his second, before he met Jess. His third, now - and the past two times he wasn’t by Dean, his brother out on a hunt with their dad or just gone from Sam’s life and so Sam never really had any time to test the whole thing out.

“It’s not like you’ve ever been affected by my heats, Sammy.”  Dean said, head tilted to the side and despite the red flush of his cheeks, he had a funny expression - he was finding this whole situation rather entertaining.  Sam was not.

“Oh, and exactly how many times have you had your heats around me?”  Sam challenged.

To this, Dean’s confidence faltered, “Uh - well.  That - that means jack squat.” Dean ended with.

“So you want to go and try  _ our _ luck?”  Sam said, head tilted and he realized with a heavy breath through his nose he had inched closer to Dean, only a shy breadth of space between their faces but Dean seemingly didn’t notice or care.  His brother’s eyes aimed down at the carpet and his brow furrowed in thought. Sam wanted to lick his lips - or better yet, lick Dean’s, and he dug his nails into his palms.

“How long are ruts?”  Dean asked, out of the blue, and he passed a casual glance up at Sam, an odd glint in his eye Sam couldn’t quite place and the question itself posed to be pretty fucking pointless to Sam.

Come again, really, “What?”  Sam asked, confused.

“Well, how long is your dick going to be running the show for you?”  Dean revised, crude as ever, and Sam’s ears coloured.

“What kind of question is that -” Sam started, but Dean cut him off with a  _ finger _ to Sam’s  _ mouth _ and it took everything in Sam to not nibble on the end of it.  He practically sweat with the effort.

“Just.  Answer it - alright?”  Dean said, irate, and Sam found the high blush on Dean’s cheeks fascinating and nerve wracking for his own poor body.

“Three -” pausing to lick his lips and shiver when he brushed just the edge of Dean’s finger, “three days.  Give or take.” Sam said - and really, it all depended on when his alpha decided they’ve done a good job of properly fucking something.

“Three days.”  Dean said, looking to the side in thought and Sam desperately wanted to know what his brother was thinking.  The longer they stood here the more time slipped by before Sam's alpha took over and he’d be nothing more than a very big, very horny, very much angry, guy.  And when Dean was all that stood in his way? Dean was good at fighting - but no one was  _ that _ good.

“Dean, I am running out of time so if you’d please -”

The next words out of Dean’s mouth Sam didn’t quite register, his heart stopping in his chest and he stared down, a lump sticking itself right in his throat and Dean looked up at him with a painfully open expression.

“I said - let me help you out.  I mean,” Dean amended, looking to his socked feet, “if it’s anything like my heats then…  Well, you know, it’s easier with a warm body. And unless you plan on hitting up our sixty something alpha motel manager, I think I can lend a hand.”

“Dean - that’s just, you can’t -” Sam stuttered over his words, face flushed bright and Dean’s face wasn’t any better.

Dean gave a deep breath, “I’m offering to help you out.  I’m your big bro, can’t leave you to burn up by yourself.”  Dean said, as if that made anything better and when the words  _ big bro _ fell from Dean’s too pretty mouth Sam fumed inwardly.    


Sam couldn’t - he  _ couldn’t,  _ with Dean, if it was only to be perfunctory.  He’d rather castrate himself then fuck his brother on pure principle alone.

“Dean -”

Dean cut him off with a kiss, chaste and innocent and damn near  _ virginal _ that Sam was shell shocked.  Dean stayed pressed to him a moment longer, his brother’s hands curled into his shoulders and keeping Sam close.  When he pulled off Sam was sure Dean said something, but Sam was currently short circuiting.

“Okay?”  Dean said, face flushed and lower lip being worried at with a flash of teeth.  Sam trembled at the sight.

“So just don’t-“

It was Sam’s turn to cut him off, a growl erupting from his chest and he curled down around his brother, catching him in a fierce kiss of want and need and pure carnal desire.  He slung an arm around Dean’s lower back, the other hand busying itself with cupping the back of his brother’s head and pulling him this way and that until he managed to fit their lips together seamless.    


He pushed forward until Dean let out a soft _gaspmoan_ , the sound of a door being hit and Sam opened his eyes, realized where he was and what he was doing.

_ Who _ he was trying to do.

He jumped back, whites of his eyes bright and heart thumping a bruise into his ribs.

“Shit - fuck I’m so sorry jesus fucking -“ Sam rambled, grabbing at his hair and beginning to hyperventilate.  His cock hung heavy and pressed tight against his jeans, a warm steady throb of want making him hyperaware and he had to get out of here now.  His alpha raged, begged him to fuck the pretty sweet thing in front of him but he steadfast refused - or tried to.

“Sam, for fucks sake.”  Dean said, his voice rough from the kiss earlier which had more than one wire tripping in Sam’s brain.

“You need to go or I'll-“

“Fuck my brains out?” - Sam cringed at Dean’s choice of words - “Thought we covered that.” 

Sam breathed deep, settled himself on the bed, fingers digging into his knees.  “You really don’t want to do this.” Sam said, tone tight and controlled.

Dean leveled Sam a look that suggested maybe his baby brother wasn’t as smart as he thought and Sam glared back up - confused.

“What?”  Sam snapped, entirely too self conscious.

“Jeez, Sammy, you really don’t know?”  Dean asked, and Sam felt like he was missing some important piece of information.  Dean just laughed at him, and Sam wanted to bite the air with how hard it was getting to not bite Dean.

“Don’t know what?”

Dean pinched his brow.  “I kissed you, Sam. Just now.”  Dean was speaking slow, like Sam was slow himself, and Sam thought it was a little unwarranted.  He didn’t know or understand what Dean was trying to get at here - he was lost.

“Cause you wanted to ‘help a brother out’ as you so  _ thoughtfully _ put it.”  Sam hissed out, and Dean groaned in annoyance.

“Okay - let me put it this way.”  Dean said, and next thing Sam knew he was shoved onto his back, Dean settling on his lap like he damn well belonged there - strong thighs caging Sam’s hips and Sam almost choked on the rush of arousal that bolted through him.    


Dean placed his hands on Sam’s chest, fingers spread wide.  Sam's breath was currently busy emulating a heart attack. “I want you to fuck me.”  Dean said slow and sure, leaning down until his elbows bracketed Sam’s head and their noses brushed.  “Not just cause’ I wanna help you out, but because you’re a fucking wet dream, Sam, and I’ve kinda wanted you to fuck me for years.”

What.

Sam’s face must be a red beacon, his eyes disbelieving and wide as they stared cross eyed into Dean’s.

“And yeah - I’m also kinda in love with you?”  Dean chuckled out, but it was entirely too low to just be a chuckle and Sam felt like he was punched in the gut, still stuck like a deer in headlights.  Thankfully, Dean still had his mind about him and sat up a little, grabbing at Sam’s good hand and guiding it to his ass. Sam’s fingers curled instinctively around the shape of it, mouth watering and alpha screaming praises.

“I’m a wet dream?”  Sam asked, marveling at the weight of Dean on his lap and the soft, firm muscle of his brother’s ass beneath his hand.

“Oh, fuck if you only knew.”  Dean breathed out, cheeks flushing high and his hips tilted up and back when Sam’s bandaged hand joined the show.  “Your hands are a fucking  _ miracle _ .” 

Sam’s chest glowed a little with pride.

“You like my hands?”  Sam asked, and he let his hold on Dean drag his brother down, grind their jean clad cocks against each other.  They both let out a soft curse, and Sam was pleased to find Dean was just as hard as he.

“Yeah - so if you fucking let go of all that-“ Dean paused to pant a soft curse when Sam’s fingers dug in, “careful control you’ve got going on, shit can get interesting.”  Dean said, holding eye contact with Sam and Sam’s stomach rolled with heat, his eyes must be going red and teeth peeking through with the way Dean let out a small whimper as they held each others gazes.

“Are you - are you sure?”  Sam asked, low and baritone as he thrusted up against Dean, his brother pushed up with every harsh jerk of hips.

Dean rolled his eyes, hands grabbing at the front of Sam’s shirt before yanking him up into a sitting position.  Sam’s world went topsy turvy with the motion, lips crashing into his brother’s and he lost any semblance of conscious thought at that point.

Sam growled, deep and low in his chest, before shoving Dean onto his back, Dean’s head hanging off the bed and he wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck, a small curse of surprise breaking off into a high gasp with Sam’s teeth worrying at his neck.    


Sam was awash in flame and want and need, and he aimed to bleed his brother, mark him up proper and Dean seemed entirely all for the program - pushing up into every touch.

“ _ Yes _ .”  Dean hissed out, hips rolling best they could against Sam’s.

With that soft consent Sam’s mind slipped, his body running autopilot with his alpha full show, and Sam was only a little sorry he wouldn’t be fully cognizant for the run time.

-  


There was something to be said about waking in a daze, body loose from sleep and neurons firing on morse code as the world at large hit him in fractions of information.

Bits and pieces here and there - warmth to the right of him, a pleasurable buzz that reverberated throughout his nerves, made him groan with contentedness as he woke.  Scent hit him first - an undeniable musk to the area that alluded to Sam he had quite the ride the night previous. And going by the twinge of his muscles, it might have been for a time longer.

Touch followed, and he curled his arm tighter around the figure that was compressed to his side, a weight thrown over his chest and legs and he realized it was the person’s arm and leg.

Sight - tried - to follow.

And Sam promptly panicked.

Like a man.

-

“I cannot believe that we - I can’t believe  _ I _ \- oh, oh I’m so dead, kill me, this is a dream, a  _ dream _ .”  Sam grit through bared teeth, pleading to the unforgiving, ever not caring, Heavens, and was met with warm silence.  He had worn a path through the cheap motels carpet, having been pacing for the better part of an hour with a sheet tied diginantly around his waist and bed tousled hair that stuck up on one side and remained flat on the other.

Dean, for his part, was relatively calm.  Chin in hand and eyes lidded with an insipid weight.

He gave up trying to reason with Sam some time ago.

“Dean, do you understand what we did - what  _ I  _ did, this is - if dad finds out he’ll  _ kill us _ and then revive us to kill us again and I don’t want to die yet, I just got back to hunting, this isn’t fair -”

“Holy  _ shit _ will you shut up already?”  Dean finally snapped, irate, and Sam shot him a most miserable look.

“Dean, we fucked.”

“Yes, we did  _ fuck _ ,” and Sam grimaced with the harsh sound it made coming from Dean, “and it was fucking  _ great _ , but you are really killing the post-coitus with this whole freak out vibe.”  Dean made wild gestures with his hands at Sam. 

Sam returned it with a sniff of his nose and a stiff shrug of his shoulders.  “I don’t get why you’re not freaking out.” Sam said, like a child pointing blame, because if he didn’t he’d repeat Dean’s words in his head until he went deaf from sensory overload.  Because Dean said it was great.

It was great - but - it -  _ wasn’t _ \- at the same time.  Because Sam liked to keep his balls in tact thank you very much.

“Because I’ve been vying for it for years, and you can’t claim you didn’t when we just spent the better part of three days fucking like bunnies.”  Dean said, tone droning like this was all old news and Sam just needed to get with the program already.

“But - I - we, you,” Sam struggled for words, and Dean seemed to take pity on him.  His brother stood up, unashamed as the blankets fell away and Sam just about choked on his own tongue.  Dean was covered in hand shaped bruises and bites, scratches and his gait was more bowlegged and  _ jesusfuckingchrist _ Sam could die right now and it’d be well worth it to have this be his last sight.

Dean stopped just shy of Sam, scant few inches off, and Sam swallowed loud enough they both could hear it.  Dean pat a hand over Sam’s thunderous heart, smiling up at him and Sam wanted to run but he also didn’t? And the vacillations of his emotions were going to kill him.

“We’re fine, alright?”  Dean said, voice a soft murmur, and Sam traced his lips as he spoke the words.

“But -”

“No buts, really, Sam, I’m not freaking - you shouldn’t either.”

Sam blinked, because that sounded like a fair argument - but still.  Hard to follow when you spent years of your formative life angsting over it.  Sam said as such.

Dean chuckled.  “Oh, like you were the  _ only _ one.  Wow, real close minded of you, Sammy.”

Sam glared at that.  “Dean, this is serious.”

“Yeah, it is,” Dean shrugged, “but we’re the Winchesters, we don’t talk feelings and we get shit done.”  Dean equivocated.

“That’s… not really an answer.”

“Are you really expecting one out of me?”

Sam glared at the ground.  Fair point.

“Not really, no.”  Sam finally conceded.

Dean beamed up at him, planting a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth and Sam’s heart attempted suicide at the flush of warmth that struck him like lightning.

“Then we’re fine.”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.”

Sam figured it was, yeah.

-

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
